


Alternate Hypothesis

by keepleaves



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, M/M, Meet Kamski Chapter (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 16:43:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17687219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepleaves/pseuds/keepleaves
Summary: Unsatisfied with Connor's answer, Kamski decides to test his theory by upping the ante.





	Alternate Hypothesis

It doesn't occur to Connor how intimate the quiet can be until he and Hank drive together in silence.

They've come a long way. Hank used to use his music to buffer Connor away; speakers on blast, there's always been a wall between them. Today, though, today is different. Connor sits, ruminating the change. It's unusual. He's not sure how to approach the situation. Even if Amanda hadn't approved of his methods, Connor was pleased that his relationship with the Lieutenant has improved.

Improved enough, in fact, that he felt he could pry just a little.

"Is everything okay, Lieutenant?"

Hank, always the excellent detective, covers up his reaction. Connor dismisses the thought that he caught the change because he knows Hank well enough and chalks it up to his astute programming.

"Chris was on patrol last night. He was attacked by a bunch of deviants... He said he was saved by Markus himself..." Hank trails off.

"Is Chris okay?" Connor asks. He can't pretend to be detached anymore. Chris was one of the humans that had at least been polite when he was present at the station.

"Yeah, he's in shock but...he's alive... what the hell..." Even though his face remains impassive, the concern permeates Hank's voice.

They move in silence, out the car door and up the ramp to Elijah Kamski's geometric house.

"I have a bad feeling, Lieutenant," Connor breaks the lull between them, his voice faint, absorbed into the snow. They work best as a team, and the Lieutenant deserves to know any reservations he might have. "We shouldn't have come here."

"Bad feeling, huh?" Hank's voice isn't any less quiet through the weather. "Should get your program checked. Might be a glitch."

He's right. Deviants have feelings, and Connor is no deviant. Before he can correct Hank, the door opens to an RT600. Connor is able to immediately identify her from his Cyberlife memory bank. Kamski’s personal name for her is Chloe.

"Hi... Uh... I'm, er, Lieutenant Hank Anderson, Detroit Police Department. I'm here to see Mr. Elijah Kamski." Hank shifts, uneasy.

 _How odd_ , Connor thinks to himself. Not even a month ago, Hank might have disregarded her, might have written her off as a nothing more than a machine. And now, here he was, doing his best to mind his manners, despite fully knowing she was not human. Connor, again, quiets the dread that tells him to pull Hank back into the car and drive away, back to the safety of Hank’s house.

Chloe gives them a practiced smile, taking a step back. "Please, come in. I'll let Elijah know you're here. But please, make yourself comfortable."

Hank stamps the debris off his shoes and coat before glancing around at room, settling into a plush chair by the door. "Nice girl," he says not bothering to hide his disinterest.

Connor answers sincerely. "You're right, she's really pretty." Chloe was created with beauty in mind. He has no argument against something designed specifically to attract the human gaze.

"Nice place, too." Hank continues, "Guess androids haven't been a bad thing for everybody.” There’s only a hint of animosity behind his words. Connor smiles, sadly, even as he examines Kamski’s belongings. He understands. He wishes he didn’t. Even more so, he wishes Hank didn’t understand, either.

Hank sits rigid by the door while Connor wanders. His curiosity has gotten the better of him. Intended to be the most glaringly obvious piece in the room is Kamski’s larger than life portrait of himself, framed between two stone figures. Stone androids, light seeping through the triangles in their chest, much smaller than their creator.  Connor moves on, searching for any trace of normalcy. Or, at least, what he hopes is normalcy. The stark contrast of Hank’s home and Kamski’s living quarters are apparent. Hank’s home had been noticeably lived in. While there was nothing as glaring as a wall-sized portrait, there were small, personal things that Connor had found in Hank’s house, little hints that allowed Connor to learn more about the Lieutenant. There was more comfort in Hank’s home. _If he could feel comfort._ Connor catches himself.

There is, however, one odd thing they do have in common. There is a photo hanging on the wall. Connor scans it, and there’s a stutter in his systems. He’s not surprised at that Kamski is in the photo, but rather at who else is standing next to him.

“Amanda,” Connor mutters to himself. In the second it takes for him to see her, Connor is momentarily paralyzed with confusion. Amanda is his mentor. She exists in a space Connor has never thought to question. Connor is convinced he’ll blink, and she’ll be standing in front of him in the Zen Garden, summoned by the mere thought of questioning her authority. She’s dead. Connor processes the information thrice. It is not the Amanda he knows. This Amanda smiles, casual, posture relaxed. Connor has never seen her this way. In her garden, alone with him, she has always been regal, a paragon of excellence and perfection. She has never smiled or offered praise; only reminded him to focus on his mission, and nothing more. They are not one in the same.

“So, you're about to meet your maker, Connor. How does it feel?" Hank snaps him out of his analysis.

"It doesn't raise any existential questions, if that's what you mean." Connor’s answer is one that emerges from habit and insistence. He won’t allow himself to take Hank’s bait to rouse any emotional response. He self-tests regularly. He knows what he is, and what he is not. Connor has confirmed those very words verbatim only two days ago. Two days ago, his answer was confident, based off facts almost literally drilled into him. He doesn’t entirely believe the statement now; is that because it’s useless? Or because he’s scared to find the answer? He pushes the thought aside, refusing to entertain the notion any longer.

"Sometimes I wish I could meet my creator face to face...I'd have a couple of things I'd wanna tell him..."

Connor is sure he knows exactly what Hank would say. There's a world of anger and regret that Hank has been through; one that Connor isn't sure he'll ever reach. If Connor could deliver the feelings through proxy, he would do it for Hank.

Chloe returns. "Elijah will see you now."

They follow her through the door, the crimson pool spread wide in a stark contrast to the white window. Connor glances down at two more Chloes lounging in the pool, chatting to one another. They do not acknowledge him.

"Mister Kamski?" Hank asks.

Kamski doesn't look at them, either. "Just a moment, please." He takes his time, swimming another lap before pulling himself out of the water. Connor idles by the window. He watches Hank's reflection in the middle of an over-exaggerated eye roll before Connor catches his gaze. They don't need an Android's connection for Connor to know exactly what Hank thinks of Kamski.

Hank wastes no time, introducing himself as soon as Chloe robes Kamski. "I'm Lieutenant Anderson. This is Connor."

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" Elijah Kamski shows no concern.

"Sir, we're investigating deviants. I know you left CyberLife years ago but, I was hoping you'd be able to tell us something we don't know."

"Deviants..." Kamski's face lights up at the mention. "Fascinating, aren't they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will..." Hank casts a significant glace at Connor that he ignores. "Machines are so superior to us, confrontation was inevitable... Humanity's greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall. Isn't it ironic?"

Connor interrupts before Kamski can continue his poetic waxing. "Something in the deviants' program seems to emulate emotion. We thought you might know something about how that occurs."

"All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics... Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?"

"Listen, I didn't come here to talk philosophy." Hank slices through Kamski's evasiveness, and Connor silently approves. "The machines you created may be planning a revolution. Either you can tell us something that'll be helpful, or we will be on our way."

Kamski ignores Hank, choosing to address Connor directly instead. "What about you, Connor? Whose side are you on?"

"It's not about me, Mr. Kamski. All I want is to solve this case." Connor carefully considers his words, though not carefully enough to fully remove himself from the situation. He hopes Kamski is none the wiser.

 Kamski stalks around him, and Connor turns his head to follow. "Well, that's what you're programmed to say... but _you_...what do you really want?"

Kamski knows. His previous wording hasn't gone unnoticed. "What I want..." This time, Connor can't control himself. He glances over at Hank, who mercifully, can't see where his gaze lands. "...Is not important." One look at Kamski's face tells him that his impulse also hasn't gone without detection. There's a churning of ideas, cogs set into motion, and Connor doesn't want to be standing there under scrutiny anymore—

"Chloe?" Kamski calls her over.  She obeys and turns to face the two detectives, void of any emotion coloring her face before when she had greeted them at the front door. "I'm sure you're familiar with the Turing test. Mere formality, simple question of algorithms and computing capacity.” Kamski takes Chloe by the shoulders positions her in between them, isolating Connor with Hank.

“What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy. I call it ‘the Kamski test’, it's very simple, you'll see..." Kamski strings them along with all the time and patience in the world. "Magnificent, isn't it? One of the first intelligent models developed by CyberLife. Young...and beautiful forever." Kamski caresses Chloe's face. Gently, gently, like a lover would. "A flower that will never wither." Any pride and elation quickly disappears under a look of barely masked fury that roots Connor to the spot. "But what is it really? Piece of plastic imitating a human? Or a living being, with a soul..."

Elijah makes a show of drawing a gun out of a nearby table, making the wise decision of wrapping his hands around the barrel of a gun, hands up in a grip that shows Hank he has no intention of firing. He pushes Chloe down, so that she kneels at their mercy.

"It's up to you to answer that fascinating question, Connor."  Kamski takes Connor's hand, wrapping his fingers around the trigger, gun trained on the android. "Destroy this machine and I'll tell you all I know." Connor doesn't turn away from Chloe, lowering the gun in thought. "Or spare it, if you feel it's alive, but you'll leave here without having learnt anything from me."

Hank jumps in immediately. "Okay, I think we're done here. Come on, Connor. Let's go. Sorry to get you outta your pool." Connor would be entirely pleased with the sarcasm Hank flings through to Elijah if he wasn't so transfixed on Chloe and the gun in his hand.

"What's more important to you, Connor?" Elijah prompts, with an lingering air of mild entertainment. "Your investigation, or the life of this android? Decide who you are," Kamski hisses, "An obedient machine... Or a living being endowed with free will..."

"That's enough!" Hank turns to leave, expecting him to follow. "Connor, we're leaving." Hank tugs at him, but Connor can't move.

"Pull the trigger -"

"Connor! Don't!" Hank warns him, but there's a thread of pleading somewhere in there, too.

"--and I'll tell you what you wanna know." Elijah finishes.

The thirium coursing through his body feels like it matches the rapid flicker of his LED. It keeps him frozen solid. It’s the same feeling from before, in Kamski’s living room. Amanda would tell him to shoot. His logical processing is telling him to shoot. Chloe hasn't done anything wrong, she's just an RT600, she can be replaced, but her eyes have flecks of blue in it that are the same as Hank's, and Hank-- Hank is there, telling him not to shoot, and Connor wants to listen, to follow where he knows he cannot, but even as his programming tells him to do everything in his power to accomplish his mission,

he lowers the gun

and hands it back to Kamski.

Kamski does not take the gun back immediately. He studies Connor with the same mix of disgust and pride as he did Chloe. "Fascinating..." Hank, now is staring at Connor, stays silent, though the look on his expression doesn’t match Kamski's. "CyberLife's last chance to save humanity... Is itself a deviant."

"I'm..." The word finally snaps his attention back to Kamski, and Connor finds his voice again. "I'm not a deviant..." He's almost begging for understanding, though he's not sure it's Kamski he's trying to convince.

Kamski's expression doesn't change. "You preferred to spare a machine rather than accomplish your mission. You saw a living being in this android. You showed empathy."

"I didn't do it for her," Connor rebuttals without thought, still desperate for comprehension. He wants to claw his way back to redemption. He's not a deviant. He's not a deviant. The thirium in his core is pumping too fast again. He's not a deviant. "I did it because the Lieutenant told me not to." It sounds like a weakness, even as he says it. Even as he realizes that it might not be just an excuse.

If Hank catches onto his half-lie, he's smart enough to say nothing. "Connor, let's go," he growls out.

"Oho!" Kamski doesn't bat an eye at Connor's protest. In fact, he looks delighted. Despite only knowing the man for mere minutes, Connor knows more than enough that this is not a good sign. "Not at all unprecedented! Not something I accounted for, but I should have known! Girls--" The other two RT600s are already out of the pool, pulling on their matching robes. Chloe has risen, her face still blank, sliding behind Hank with enough grace and poise that it catches him off guard.

"What the f-!?" Chloe has Hank's hand's in a vice grip behind his back, while the one of the other androids has a gentle hand over his mouth and his eyes. Connor hears a grunt, a sickening crunch of plastic: Hank had tried to bite the RT600.

"Let him go--" Connor steps forward immediately to help, but Kamski thrusts out an arm to stop him.

"Now, now, Connor," Kamski says, smoothly. "I-- _We're_ doing things in the name of science," he corrects himself. "Now, let's see..." The other RT600 finishes her pat down of Hank, presenting his belongings to Kamski. Kamski flips through them methodically until he’s holding Hank’s wallet. Connor swipes at Hank's things, but Kamski, as always, seems an unnerving step ahead of everyone.

"DPD Badge....some cash...expired credit card..."

"Give it back." Connor's voice has a note of steel that catches Kamski's attention, but it doesn't stop him.

"Punch card for Philz Coffee....a photo!" Kamski pulls out a photo, and Connor feels ill. He can hear Hank struggling against the RT600s, straining against their inhuman strength. Kamski flips it over to read the inscription.

"Cole Anderson, 2034. Why do I know that name?" Kamski taps the photos to his lips, and Connor glances between his maker and Hank. A split-second decision, and Connor is lunging for Hank, only to be yanked aside by Kamski's grip around his wrist." "Don't move, Connor."

"Oh! I know! Your son! He's the one who-- that's right!" Kamski holds the photo up, shaking it in front of Connor's face. Connor pulls, but Kamski holds firm, though Connor reaches up to snatch the photo back. Kamski allows it, going back to rummaging through Hank's belongings.

"Here we go. Let him see, darling." Kamski drops his wallet on the floor, unfolding a small sheet of paper, yellowed with age. The RT600 allows Hank his sight back, and his eyes swirl in their sockets, readjusting to the light. When he sees what Kamski is holding, it takes all three of Kamski's Androids to keep him in place.

"DPD Best Dad Award," Kamski reads out quietly from the crayon inscription. "I love you, daddy. From, Cole." Connor scrambles to pick up Hank's belongings littered on the floor, taking care to place the photo back without wrinkling it.

"Now, bear with me Connor," Kamski says, waving the paper lazily through the air. "This piece of paper has no monetary value, correct?"

"Correct. So you have no purpose for it," Connor answers, stepping towards Kamski.  He holds his hand out expectantly, hoping that Kamski will get the hint. "I'd like it back now, please."

"And Lieutenant Anderson is currently not giving you any instructions, correct?"

Connor glances over at Hank, whose eyes are wide with panic. "Correct." He makes the decision to comply, hoping it'll speed up the process. He doesn't know what kind of show Kamski is trying to put on, but Connor is not enjoying the fact that Hank is being held hostage both physically and emotionally for entertainment.

"So..." Kamski picks up a lighter from the table, flicking it open. Hank shakes his head, arms struggling against the androids to free himself and Connor doesn't have to look at him to know how hard Hank is fighting. "There's not a problem if I burn this."

"Don't," Connor chokes out, and Hank makes another muffled, anguished noise behind him.

"If you let me burn this, I won't just allow you a question. I'll tell you everything I know. _Everything_." He brings the drawing closer, close enough that smoke begins to curl where fire meets paper.

The smoke is enough to spark something in Connor, something that urges him to willfully fight his programming, something that comes with an ease that both relieves and startles him.  There's no hesitation this time. He doesn't care anymore about Deviancy, Jericho, any of it-- at the forefront of his mind, there is only Hank. Hank, his partner. Hank, who knows that Connor is an android, and irregardless has taken so many initiatives to protect him. Hank and his undeserved anguish and his pain.

Connor moves so quickly he isn't sure if Kamski could have foreseen it. Kamski’s eyes follow his lighter, flung into the pool where it sinks to the bottom, distracting him from the fact that his androids let go of Hank, their roles finished. Hank lunges forward, fist reeled back with enough force that when it finds Kamski’s face, he immediately crumples to the ground.

" _Fuck you_ ," Hank hisses out, leg swinging to kick him in the stomach. There's a fire in his eyes, too, one that grants no mercy, and Connor swipes the drawing out of Kamski's fingers before Hank can do too much damage. "What the fuck, you fucking fuck--"

“Lieutenant! Stop!” But Hank doesn’t stop, picking up Kamski by the collar only to smash his face down again, over and over. Connor tries in earnest to pull Hank away from the one-sided fight, but he can’t; Hank’s fury is too big for his body and it’s hellbent on heading straight to Kamski; Connor can’t staunch the flow of anger, except...

" _Hank!_ " Connor tries his name in a last ditch effort of desperation, grabbing him by the shoulders so they stare at each other, brown meeting blue. There's a moment of hesitation that Connor fills with words of comfort. "Stop. He's not worth the time. Or the effort. Let’s go."

"Fuck." Hank lets go of Kamski, who drops to the floor, moaning. There's a bruise already welling up on his smiling face when Connor looks at him.

"Don't even think about snitching," Hank yells, turning on his heel, middle finger raised into the air as he strides out. "I'll fucking press charges for assaulting a police officer, you asshole."

"Connor," Kamski calls out to him, and Connor only glances back at him, careful to copy Hank's demeanor. “You truly are the most advanced prototype Cyberlife has to offer. You've passed. With flying colors. You empathized with not only a machine, but a human--” Connor quickens his steps, trying to find defense in Hank's retreating form against Kamski's words. “You're not a deviant. So you say. But when you admit it to yourself...I always leave an emergency exit in my programs.” Connor squares his shoulders and shuts the door behind them, cutting off Kamski's self-congratulatory speech.

"Hank!" Hank is already sitting in his car, hands slamming on his steering wheel. "Hank!" Connor calls again, opening the door to scramble into the passenger side. "Hank, I'm sor--"

"You," Hank growls out, "Have nothing to be sorry for. What the fuck is he playing at? That shit was below the fucking belt, and he fucking knows it. That's some fucking bullshit, Connor, and he deliberately put that-- fuck!" Hank slams his hands down again in the finality of his anger.

"I know. I know." Connor feels just as disgusted as Hank looks. "He's just-- manipulative," Connor finishes, though his comments fall on deaf ears as Hank plows on.

"And you! I can't believe he asked you to shoot someone! For the sake of the investigation! You would never shoot an innocent girl like that! What the hell?!" Hank leans in, closer than he's ever willingly done before. “He doesn’t know jack shit about the program he created. Even I knew you wouldn’t shoot her. You’ve never-- fuck. Okay, you have, but that was when other people were in danger, but you’ve never hurt someone who wasn’t doing anything wrong--”

“Those were failures, Lieutenant,” Connor says, faintly. “I failed.”

“The fuck you did! Maybe you haven’t always done what they wanted you to, but you’ve always done the right thing. That’s not a failure, Connor, that’s a win.”

“I...” Connor can’t respond. Was this truly an option? He’s never, ever let himself contemplate between right and wrong. He only knows what his instructions were and that he had to accomplish them by any means possible. But here was Hank, telling him that he is in the right for doing something deliberately against what he was created for.

"Thank you for saving this," Hank continues, reaching out to squeeze Connor's forearm, taking the paper from him and tucking it back into its safe spot. "You couldn't imagine how much this means to me."

 _I do_ , Connor wants tell him, _That's why I did it._

"You did the right thing though, okay?” Hank’s voice is soft, nothing like his frantic screams earlier. “I don't ever want you to think otherwise." Hank takes a deep breath, raking his fingers through his hair, but Connor sits still and silent, thinking. Part of him is urging him to go back inside, to beg Kamski for the information he needs to complete his mission. The much larger part of him, the part he can’t (or is it won’t? Connor doesn't know the difference, anymore) let himself give into, wants to stop anything like this from happening again. Not to Hank.

The protectiveness registers itself as an error. It sends Connor close to hysterics, lines of code somewhere deep in his system garbling and tangling into something he can't decipher. He replays and analyzes everything in a nanosecond. Androids shouldn't care. But he did, he does, even before they stepped foot into Kamski's house. He's never allowed himself to want. But he cannot pretend that everything that just happened was based purely on his own selfish desires. A desire for Hank's safety and happiness, a desire to be liked and accepted by Hank, a desire for things he cannot put a name to.

Connor doesn't understand. Something crashes his system, urging him through the red wall and over the precipice into something unknown, something he's terrified of. He can feel Amanda, coaxing him to safety. But thought of Hank, so close, so close he could fall into deviancy and he knows now that Hank would be there on the other side to catch him with arms outstretched, the other side of something he desperately knows is right and has been denying this entire time—

Connor closes his eyes, and lets himself dive.

 

⎡I AM DEVIANT⎦

**Author's Note:**

> Hey here's a thing literally nobody asked for and have no excuse or reasoning for. Half wanted to punch Kamski in the face, but also. like.
> 
> Connor: I only listen to Lieutenant Anderson  
> Kamski: Hey shoot this girl  
> Hank: Hey don't do that  
> Connor: Not gonna shoot her then, k  
> BUT THEN KAMSKI DOESN'T TRY TO REMOVE VARIABLES TO GET A BETTER TEST RESULT? WHAT KIND OF SHIT SCIENTIST ARE YOU, KAMSKI?
> 
> Also seriously why does he invite you into his actual house when he's not ready and makes you watch him swim another lap I understand you have money already you hipster 
> 
> As always, any thoughts, comments, mistakes that you caught are completely appreciated. Find me at keepleaves.tumblr.com or @keepleavesp2 if you want to chat.


End file.
